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Title: Intentions
Pairing: Harry Hook x reader
Summary: Harry intends to find out what your type is, but you play along with his game, pushing his intentions aside.
Word Count: 1,523
Warnings: none
Your name: submit
What is this? "Benjamin, that is just about the-" "Stupidest thing you've ever heard?" Ben finishes for you. There's a flicker of hurt on his face as he speaks. "They still deserve a second chance, Y/N." Your features soften, frustration fading. Ben was facing a lot of scrutiny as king, and he needed all the support he could get if he was going to allow Uma, Gil, and Harry to come to Auradon. As his best friend, you owed him some faith in his actions. "I guess," you finally answer. Ben cracks a smile. "But don't expect me to be best friends with them." Ben pauses, smile dipping just enough for you to notice. You groan as a look of sheepish charm washes over Ben's face. "Not best friends, just friends," he clarifies, but your annoyance doesn't budge. "Just with one of them. Please, Y/N. Do it for me." You raise an eyebrow, debating your options. You could say no to him, but knowing Ben, he'd probably find a way to wrangle you into agreement anyway. It was either you agree now, or, after a lot of coaxing and reminders, you agree later. "Fine, I'll do it," you consent as Ben grins, pulling you into a hug. "You owe me big time, though, Florian." "Put it on my tab," Ben jokes, managing to make you laugh just a little bit. You shouldn't have agreed. It's been a few weeks since Uma, Harry, and Gil arrived, and because you were Ben's best friend, of course he made you in charge of Harry. Ben didn't get off scott-free though, as he was watching over Uma, but that was still a million times better than dealing with the son of Captain Hook chattering all the time. You wondered if he even had an off switch. "Aw, princess, why the long face?" Harry teases as he suddenly shuts your locker door. "Hi Harry," you grumble, entering your combination again, not yet done grabbing your textbooks. Harry bends down, grabbing a book out of your hands. You don't react, instead just letting him leaf through the pages as you collected your belongings. You were somewhat used to this now. You'd be minding your own business, then out of nowhere, Harry would pop up and begin blabbering, trying to get under your skin. Whether it was flirting with you or just annoying you, Harry would do anything to get even a sliver of a reaction out of you. And sure, he was really good looking, but usually his attitude problem annoyed you more than his looks attracted you. Once you've gotten your stuff, you stand and take the book from Harry, placing it in your backpack. "Darling, I wasn't finished," he whines, accompanied by a mocking pout. "And knowing your intelligence level you'll never finish it," you reply, giving him a tight smile. You turn away, walking towards your next class. Of course, Harry follows, hot on your heels with a smirk and another retort. "I'm not sure if the king would like you speaking to me like that," he teases, grinning as you rolled your eyes. "Or do you get a pass?" Your jaw clenches at the mention of favoritism. One too many times did people accuse you of only being friends with Ben because he was the king. In reality, you rarely saw him as King Ben. Most of the time, he was just normal, goofy Ben who was too kind for his own good. "Did I hit a sore spot?" Harry pouts, looking at you with wide eyes. "I didn't know you saw King Ben that way." Harry puts a hand on your shoulder in mock comfort, but you push him away. "I don't," you immediately growl. As Harry smirks, you kick yourself for being so quick. "He's just a friend, and he's not my type." Harry raises his eyebrows in surprise. Now he was intrigued. "Not your type?" Harry repeats. "Love, if you don't like kings, who do you like?" He sounds genuinely interested, and you smile, knowing you had a bit of the upper-hand. "Isn't that for you to find out?" Your voice is dripping in sarcastic sweetness and Harry loves it. You were presenting a challenge, and the boy loved challenges. So he bumps up his facetiousness, lazily putting an arm around you and looking out the window to see the tourney field. He's immediately inspired and fires back, playing along with this game. "You like those tourney boys, don't ya?" he offers mockingly, briefly gesturing to the fields. "They're just so dreamy." Harry leans in close to you as he speaks, and you struggle to suppress an amused smile. Admittedly, watching Harry act so foolishly, dancing around you as he tries to annoy you was funny, but you weren't about to let him have the satisfaction of making you laugh simply because of a few theatrics. No, he'd have to work a lot harder to earn that. "Then I'd be dating Jay, wouldn't I?" you reply, gladly pointing out a flaw in his logic. Harry's smile twitches, façade briefly falling as he realizes you just outwitted him. "Try again." Harry pauses, trying to think. He had only been here for a short period, and considering how most people tried to avoid him, Harry didn't exactly get the chance to assimilate and get to know everyone. But despite this disadvantage, he wasn't going to let up now. "The smart ones," Harry brings up next, but you shake your head. "The dumb ones?" Harry's got a grin on his face, but you can tell he was genuinely stumped as you shake your head. For once, Harry Hook actually didn't know what to say. "If I liked the dumb ones then I'd be dating you," you teased, patting his cheek lightly as Harry rolled his eyes. "Try again." Harry pouts once more. "Give me a hint, darling." "Those aren't in the rules, Hook," you respond, not looking at him as you neared your classroom. "Besides, your time's up." You lean against a wall, facing Harry and giving him a gloating smile. You can see the annoyance written all over his face as he grumbles under his breath. You're about to turn away and walk into your class when Harry suddenly puts his hand down on the wall, effectively pinning you down. "Am I your type?" Harry whispers. You swear he's purposefully made his accent heavier just for this moment. "I already said I wasn't into the dumb ones," you denied. An amused smile tugs at the corner of Harry's mouth as you speak. "You're not my type." It took everything within you to force those words out and suppress a blush as he stared at you, and you hoped you had gotten away with it. Maybe Harry was your type, but that would only make your previous statement a little white lie, so why were you sweating like this right now? "Why else would you deal with me?" Harry asks, a small, teasing grin on his face. His knuckles ghost over your cheek, barely touching you. "No need to lie, Y/N." Harry almost whispers your name and it sends a chill down your spine. Harry had purposefully put you in similar positions before - close proximity was a classic technique of his to make you uncomfortable - but this time, you had a feeling it wasn't to make you uncomfortable. "Maybe I just feel bad for you," you answer nonchalantly, trying to keep this charade up. You step away from the wall, narrowing the space between you. "You'll never know." Harry pauses, eyes trailing down to look at your lips. He places a hand on the small of your back, the gentle contact surprising you slightly, but you don't pull away. You let him draw you in closer, almost to the point where you could feel his heart racing. "I intend to find out," Harry whispers. He begins to pull you in, but moments before your lips touch, you slip out of his grip and open the classroom door. Harry's eyes open and he looks over at you, a slight pink tinge on his cheeks as he realizes. His chance to kiss you slipped right out of his hands, as did his pride. This was the first time the pirate had truly felt so mortified. "Your intentions might have to wait," you warn, trying not to laugh at the embarrassment on Harry's face. "Don't want to be late to class." You wink, slipping into the classroom as a dumbfound Harry glances at the clock. He had less than a minute to get to his next class, which was obnoxiously far as is, but that was the least of Harry's woes. Slowly, Harry makes his way to the next class. The bell rings and Harry knows he was probably going to get in trouble for being late, but he doesn't care. You had just won this round, and Harry was not going to have that be the score. A smirk forms on his face as he begins plotting for the next round, for his intentions would be fulfilled somehow.
